Page 10

A virgin.

A fucking virgin.

As if this woman couldn’t be any more perfect—then she goes and tells me she’s been saving herself for me.

For me.

There’s a desperate, dark part of me that wants to howl to the moon like an unhinged beast, to stake my claim right here, right now, to make damn sure she never questions who she belongs to again.

But I can’t go there.

Not yet.

Not when I have a woman to claim.

My woman.

So instead, I press the button and growl the order.

“Stop the fucking limo.”

She goes still, her face falling like I just ripped the ground out from under her.

Fuck.

I see it.

The way her shoulders drop.

The way her hands clench in her lap like she’s trying to brace for rejection.

Like she thinks I don’t want her.

Like she doesn’t understand that I am two seconds away from losing my goddamn mind over her.

I don’t know how to tell her that.

I can’t let her see how mad I am for her.

Not yet.

So I use the time it takes the driver to pull into a space to gather my thoughts.

When the limo comes to a halt, I don’t even wait for him to step out and open the door.

I jump out first, turning back to her, hand extended.

For a beat, she just stares at it, sucking in a sharp, uneven breath.

Something flickers across her face— relief, maybe?

Then she takes my hand.

And the second her fingers slide into mine, I pull her out, leading her onto the sidewalk with purpose.

I start walking, dragging her along, and— like the idiot I am —I forget to explain a goddamn thing.

“Sammy? Sammy! What are you doing?”

She tugs at my grip, her voice pitched too high, too uncertain.

Aella sounds near tears, and fuck, I know I just screwed up again.

I stop.

Turn.

Move in real close so no one else can hear us.

Look her dead in the eye.

“You tell me you’ve been saving that sweet little pussy all for me, Pixie. That you’re completely untouched. Like you’ve been waiting for me.”

Her breath shudders as her pupils dilate, lips parting on a soft, helpless sound.

“I—I have,” she whispers, and something primal inside me unfurls, stretching wide, gripping deep.

I suck in a slow breath, steadying myself before tilting my chin toward the chapel door we’ve stopped in front of.

“So, what do you think I’m doing?”

Her gaze flicks to the sign hanging above us— Little Wedding Chapel on Main . Her pulse thrums at the base of her throat, hammering so hard I swear I can see it.

“What? I mean, why?”

She takes a half step back, bumping into my chest, and I feel her body quiver against mine.

Her celery-green eyes dart down, catching on the smaller sign Fifteen-Minute Weddings brazenly displayed in the window. Beyond it, a case of cheap gold bands glints under the neon glow of old Vegas lights.

I don’t need those.

I’ve been carrying around the perfect pair of rings in my pocket since I set foot stateside.

I pat the outline of them discreetly as I pin her in place with my stare.

I don’t blink.

I don’t hesitate.

“Because we’re gonna do this right.”

She sputters, fingers twitching in my grasp.

“Sammy, you don’t have to marry me. I mean, I want to be with you?—”

“Then doesn’t marrying me make sense?”

She swallows hard.

“I just meant, I mean, I would sleep with you anyway.”

And just like that, she drops her gaze, her fingers twisting together, her whole body tensing with something that looks an awful lot like shame.

I don’t like that.

I don’t want her looking anywhere but at me.

I tilt her chin up, forcing those stunning green eyes back to mine.

“Aella, you’ve belonged to me since you were just a kid. Do you deny it?”

Her breath hitches.

She shakes her head.

Another victory.

“You know that, don’t you, Pixie? You’re mine. Always been mine.”

Her lips part, but she doesn’t argue.

She never could when it came to me. And she can’t now. Not about belonging to me.

That’s enough. It has to be.

So I take the win, and I march forward, pushing through the chapel doors.

But before I can make it three steps, she speaks.

“Okay.”

I stop.

Turn towards her sweet face.

“Okay?”

I cant my head to the side. And it’s like suddenly I can’t speak English or something.

She bites her lip, then nods.

“Okay, I’ll marry you before we you know .”

A slow, sharp grin pulls at my mouth.

“I mean, if you even want to, you know ,” she whispers, eyes darting to the side.

I smirk.

“You can’t say it?”

Her cheeks turn pink, and I swear, it’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

“Oh my God, yes, I can say it. If you still want to have sex ,” she forces out, voice low, almost breathless.

I lean in, my lips just barely brushing her ear. “You’re goddamn perfect. Do you know that?”

“I am not. You just, I mean, it’s the heat of the moment. You can see for yourself I’m not even close to perfect,” she argues, gesturing to her body, but I have no idea what she means.

I shake my head before she can even try to convince me otherwise.

“You think I don’t see you? And you want to be seen, is that right, Pixie?” I murmur, tracing my fingers along her jaw, my voice dropping to a near growl.

“Well, I see you. Every inch. Every damn piece of you.”

S he swallows, her throat working, and I know she’s hanging on to every word.

“You want to know if I still want to fuck you?” I continue, watching the way her breath hitches, her pupils expanding like she’s already lost in me.

I grab her hand and press it against the thick length straining behind my zipper.

“I want to fuck you.” I move her hand just slightly, just enough for her to feel how hard I am for her. “I will fuck you. But first, I’m gonna give you my name. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl, aren’t you?”

Her lips part, a soft, shuddering breath escaping as her fingers flex against me. She’s trembling, but not with fear.

With anticipation.

Her eyes are glittering with it, with need, with the unspoken yes I know is already forming in her head.

She’s into this. Into me.

And that’s the only reason I’m not kicking my own ass for insisting we do this.

This woman is dangerous. She’s going to ruin me.

And for the first time in my life, I welcome it.

“But my father will kill you,” she breathes, barely above a whisper.

She says it like a warning.

It’s sweet. Just like her.

I smirk.

I know exactly who and what Angel Fury is.

I know if I was just some nobody trying to play fast and loose with his daughter, he’d kill me without hesitation.

But I’m not.

I love this woman with every inch of my being.

And once I prove it to him, he won’t want that.

I hope.

I tilt my head to the other side, keeping my grip firm on her waist.

“He can try, Pixie.” I grin back. “But you and I both know you were always meant to be mine. Besides, I’m hard to kill. Plus, our families probably wouldn’t like that.”

She arches a brow, finally getting it.

“Probably not,” she says.

Then she smiles.

And it’s the best damn thing I’ve ever seen.

She stares at the wedding chapel, a shaky breath leaving her lips.

“Are you sure?”

I reach for the door.

Look at her one last time.

“I’m sure, Aella.”

Then, leaning in, I murmur against the shell of her ear, “I’m gonna marry you.”

A beat.

A breath.

“Then I’m gonna take you back to the hotel?—”

I press a kiss just below her ear, feel her shiver in my arms.

“—and I’m gonna fuck you so good. Every which way I can.”